93: Chapter 93 He Knows Who You Are

Ye Nanxing sat at the corner of the stairs, leaning against the cold alloy wall, her eyes closed, but she was not asleep.

Her consciousness had just struggled out of that abyss of 'mental tearing.'

It had only been a few minutes, but it felt like she had gone through a nightmare.

After waking up, Chu Yunting had been sitting silently on the other side, neither approaching nor asking too many questions.

He simply pushed a bottle of warm water over.

Ye Nanxing did not take it, only asking one question:

'You just said... Number 3 is an experimental failure.'

Chu Yunting nodded, his gaze not wavering.

She continued to ask: 'Then what about Number 1 and Number 2?'

Chu Yunting paused for a moment: 'There are no records.'

Ye Nanxing tilted her head slightly: 'Are you sure?'

'Does the main control system's experimental records start numbering from 3?'

Chu Yunting pursed his lips and was silent for a few seconds.

Finally, he said in a low voice: 'I once checked the backup underlying data.'

'In an old structural diagram, there was a module that wasn't completely wiped—the track number is X-23-72, attached to the old logistics system.'

'There were two fields written on it.'

He paused, his voice very low:

'Restricted Zone ∴ External Access Prohibited'

'Storage ID ∴ Sub-sequence Sample: 0-4'

Ye Nanxing's expression changed slightly.

She did not press him on why he hadn't said it sooner, nor did she ask if he had done it on purpose.

The air was stifling, the low-frequency operating sounds like the murmurs of a human heart, pressing deep against her eardrums.

After Chu Yunting finished that sentence, Ye Nanxing did not move immediately.

Her eyes were fixed on that small signal stick.

A few seconds later, her fingers gently tightened.

'Give me the path.'

Chu Yunting was silent for a moment, then slowly stood up.

'I will go with you.'

His voice was calm, but carried a tone that brooked no refusal.

Ye Nanxing frowned slightly and looked back at him.

'You don't need to accompany me.'

'Your position here is not low; if you rashly expose the track anomaly, even you will be implicated.'

Chu Yunting raised his eyes to meet her gaze.

'Ye Nanxing.'

'I do know of that passage.'

'But from the moment you push open that door, it will no longer just be a reconnaissance mission.'

'If you are truly prepared to go in—then you need an extraction plan.'

'This bunker is not a linear structure; it has a nine-palace folded spatial layout.'

'Even if you can teleport, without a sense of direction, you won't be able to get out.'

His tone had no fluctuations, his eyes calm, as if he were stating facts.

'Besides, you won't kill ordinary guards.'

'But I will.'

The moment these words were spoken, the air seemed to stagnate for a split second.

Ye Nanxing's fingers moved, her throat felt lighter, but she said nothing.

A few seconds later, she turned around, and with her back to him, said:

'If you want to follow, don't drag me down.'

Chu Yunting curled the corner of his lips slightly, said nothing, and just walked forward, pulling the backup access card from his wristwatch.

The two walked side by side onto that abandoned, sealed track well passage.

Chu Yunting did not ask why she was going.

Ye Nanxing did not ask why he was following.

In this bunker, some things didn't need to be spoken aloud to be understood.

Some people didn't need to prove their loyalty to be trusted.

They simply took a synchronized step in the same direction.

The lighting in the entire passage was extremely dim.

The aging sensor lights flickered occasionally, like frozen fireflies struggling in their death throes.

The air was permeated with a cold, metallic scent, as if time had frozen in this corridor.

Ye Nanxing said nothing, her footsteps steady and light.

Chu Yunting walked by her side, maintaining a half-meter distance from her the entire time.

Neither interfering with her movements nor failing to be ready to act at any moment.

The two silently approached the sealed door.

It was a rusted, mottled triangular steel door; the gap was so narrow it was almost impossible to see inside, but there was a faint low-frequency fluctuation leaking out, as if some giant lifeform in the deep sea were breathing slowly.

Ye Nanxing stopped, her gaze darkening, and she raised her hand to press against the edge of the door gap.

[Identification Point Activated]

[Spatial Disturbance Injected]

'Click—'

The metal latch opened in response, the molecular structure adjusted slightly, and the door body slowly loosened.

Chu Yunting immediately attached an interference shielding module to the wall, reverse-blocking the signal transmission.

Everything was silent and swift, like the coordination of a well-trained squad.

The door opened.

Extremely cold air rushed out.

It wasn't ordinary cold; it was a blank chill that froze the soul, as if crossing a boundary of civilization.

The first thing they saw—was that Child.

ID: 04.

Sitting on the central seat, covered by a glass dome, its entire body was slowly enveloped by a temperature-controlled crystal layer.

It wore a blue experimental uniform, barefoot, with aging physiological monitoring bands strapped to its legs.

Its head was bowed, its face obscured by a lock of stray hair, making it impossible to see its features clearly.

But in that moment—

Chu Yunting's breathing suddenly hitched.

He hadn't never seen test subjects, but he had never seen one like this—

No tearing, no distortion, no signs of erosion, not even a hint of mutation.

This Child looked just like an ordinary six or seven-year-old boy.

Clean.

Calm.

But also eerily unsettling.

Ye Nanxing slowly approached, her eyes revealing a complex wavering for the first time.

She could feel it—although the Child's body was asleep, its consciousness was awake.

Its mental fluctuations were forcibly suppressed and frozen, like a volcano about to wake up that had been imprisoned in an ice cell, capable of erupting at any moment, yet remaining completely still.

'It is not dead...' Chu Yunting whispered, 'but it is not asleep either.'

'It is sealed on the consciousness level.'

'Not the system's technology, but some kind of... intervention.'

Ye Nanxing crouched down, her gaze fixed on the Child's gently rising and falling chest.

The breathing was so weak it was like a kite with a broken string, still hanging in the air but ready to fall at any moment.

She took a deep breath and raised her right hand slightly.

The next second, a thumb-sized jade bottle appeared silently in her palm.

—Taken directly from space.

Chu Yunting's eyes suddenly narrowed, and he whispered almost subconsciously:

'You... Space-type?'

Ye Nanxing's movements paused slightly, and she looked up at him.

There was no panic in her eyes, only a brief surprise—

But it was only surprise, fleeting.

She lowered her head, holding the jade bottle in her palm, and spoke indifferently.

'It seems people with spatial abilities are not rare.'

Her tone was flat, but carried a hint of sarcasm.

Chu Yunting looked at her and did not answer immediately.

After a long while, he replied: 'Not rare? You are wrong.'

'The occurrence rate of Space-type abilities is less than one in ten million.'

'Even in Zero Point, there are almost no living samples that have survived for more than three months.'

He spoke very calmly, but his eyes were sharper than his voice.

'I recognize it because I once saw it once... and it was the last time.'

He didn't elaborate on who that was, but the way he looked at Ye Nanxing was no longer just surprise, but carried deep contemplation and wariness.

Ye Nanxing, however, remained unmoved.

She had always known clearly that she was not a Child of destiny, nor was she the only existence endowed with abilities.

She never believed in fate.

But rather believed in—the human heart.